


Doctor Strange and the Darkness of the Heart

by bottomless_steakfries



Category: Doctor Strange (Comics)
Genre: Body Horror, Corruption, Gender Fluid Character, Multi, Other, Slow Burn, Tentacle Sex, smut in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 14:04:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5969727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottomless_steakfries/pseuds/bottomless_steakfries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen Strange goes on a usual mission to eradicate a monster in the astral plane when a mortal sees something they shouldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The One That Saw Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen Strange goes on a mission to save innocent people from having their souls devoured, like a usual Sunday night, until a mortal sees something they shouldn't

Strange sensed a fairly major disturbance one evening, somewhere in downtown New York City, he reckoned, which wasn’t that far a drive from his Sanctum Sanctorum in Greenwich. He sensed a thrumming atmosphere and swaying bodies along with an overall feeling of danger. Being the protector of the spiritual plane, Stephen decided to go off and see what exactly the commotion was all about. Perhaps a Mindless One had wandered off from his recent battle with his once-friend Karl Mordo. Or, maybe a demon had found a good way to trap his meals. Whatever it was, Stephen was obligated to go and eradicate the problem, as none of the Avengers were capable of handling things that they could not punch. That, and Stephen was sort of the Sorcerer Supreme, and it was his job to make sure demons didn’t eat people's souls.

It was a club, packed full of younger people, hardly over twenty-five and barely old enough to drink, but the place was full of booze and narcotics, things Stephen used to be terribly intimate with. He felt very old among the dancing youth, despite turning only thirty-four three months ago. The white hair at his temples caused by magical, physical, and mental stresses made him stand out more than he wanted to. However, a woman with green hair had taken quite the liking to Stephen and swayed her way to him. 

“You know, I like ‘em on the older side,” she purred, attempting to be sexy towards the restrained sorcerer.

“I’m here for a friend,” he said, shooting down her advancements. Stephen saw a glimpse of anger in her expression, but she wandered away oblivious to the mystical entity Stephen was there to eliminate. 

“Hoary hosts of Hoggarth…”

To the average mortal onlooker, the DJ up at the stage of the club looked like a young man who had an opposition to showers, by the state of his half-shaved greasy hair poking out from under a beanie. Stephen saw him as an enormous blob of a beast with tendrils floating over the discs and buttons and knobs that kept the dancing public hypnotized. He saw streams of energy rising above the masses of dancing bodies that flowed directly into the demon’s gaping maw, and he saw his own foot tapping to the beat of the music. Who knew how many girls were unconscious in the restrooms that would be absolutely disgusted to wake up on the floor? 

Stephen would have to act fast, lest his own spiritual energy be drained as well. Finding a dark corner that wasn’t occupied with snogging couples halfway to fornicating, Stephen closed his eyes and carefully left his body standing where it was, and started to project his astral form.

It was always an odd experience for Stephen, feeling himself being pulled apart. His clothes were different, his astral form donning robes and belts and most importantly his cloak. Getting adjusted to his non-corporeal form, it was time to get down to business. Racing towards the musical behemoth, he traced a spell with his fingers, pulling energy from the stars--

 

And immediately slammed into someone who he should have been able to float right through. They both fell over and cursed and scrambled back to their feet. Stephen thought he was seeing double, but after blinking a few times and regaining his senses, he realized that this person had a bad case of misalignment. Their soul wasn't flush with their body like it should be.

 

"What the hell, man? You some kind of-of-of superhero wannabe? What the fuck is up with your clothes? Some kind of Dungeons and Dragons kind of cosplay shit? Do you really need a belt that high up around your thigh? You really need spandex on your lanky white boy legs?"

 

"Well, I... Uh... What...? You listen here, punk, I got these clothes from an ancient sorcerer I had to climb the Himalayas to meet. And you, look who's talking? Colored fishnets belong back in the scene phase of 2005, and you're bent halfway into the astral plane! Actually... That's not good, I should fix that..."

 

"Punk? Astral plane? You're starting to freak me the fuck out, guy, what the hell are you gonna do?"

 

"Just don't move! I gotta destroy this behemoth before it devours the rest of everyone's souls."

 

Fishnets (which Stephen decided to call the annoying party goer, since their gender was indistinguishable and he didn’t want to offend by assuming) stumbled aside with a mumbled "Don't talk shit about my fishnets, my legs look great in 'em," while Stephen whisked himself up and continued his previously interrupted spell. 

 

A magical bolt flew from Stephen's fingers and struck the demon DJ. The beast shrieked and souls burst out of the new hole in its torso. Stephen struck it again and again, with vim and vigor, and eventually, the beast was nothing but holes, and seemed to dissolve. The DJ in the physical plane seemed to pass out and was erased from people's memories and from existence itself. Energy and absorbed souls returned to their proper bodies. As Stephen hypothesized, there were several disgusted screams coming from the women's restroom. 

 

Stephen returned to his body, jolting and resisting the usual urge to gag. It was a reaction he had every time his two parts had to combine after being separated. He noticed that his body had gone from standing in a corner and swaying to the beat, to sitting, and wondered if people thought he was dead. Then again, these people were dropping like flies not too long ago. It must have seemed normal at the time.

 

Fishnets approached Stephen, moving roughly through the crowd. Stephen stood up and mentally prepared himself. A non-magical mortal saw some pretty magical events. It was never a good thing. It meant having to explain things, then usually a demonstration of some sort, and it exhausted Stephen. 

 

"Hey!" They shouted, grabbing the front of Stephen's blue t-shirt, which was definitely not a part of the extravagant robes he was wearing not ten seconds earlier. Stephen thought the person's hands were small, but not un-proportionally so.

 

"What the fuck was all that?! Why'd the DJ fucking disintegrate?! You blasted the guy into oblivion and where the fuck are your clothes, the cape, the fucking, I dunno, wizard robes? You were NOT wearing whatever the fuck this is, you-you maniac!"

 

"Hey, you can't go around calling people maniacs. You're the one with your soul just dangling half in and half out of your body, just begging to be snatched up by something nasty. Why's that, huh?"

 

Stephen thought that was an excellent rebuttal. The other blinked and looked ready to cry, but it looked to Stephen as if they didn’t want to in front of some stranger. 

"I don't know! I'm not really consciously aware of the well-being of my soul right now! What the hell is going on? No one else is losing their shit except for m-m-me!"

 

Fishnets looked very distressed. Stephen decided the best thing to do was to buy them a drink and see if they would calm down before he started explaining what went on not five minutes ago. He gave his best casual smile, and walked them to the bar. Stephen sat first, finding two seats next to each other that weren't occupied by people nursing their drinks while holding their aching heads.

 

"Two whiskey sours, please. Sit down, kid, I have to explain myself."


	2. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen and Fishnets talk about magic.

Fishnets sat down in the available bar stool, smoothing down the skirt they wore, twisting the bracelet on their wrist. "So... What the hell?"

"I had to destroy the demon guy that looked like a DJ. It was absorbing peoples' souls, including yours. What day was it when you walked into this place?"

"It was... Friday..."

"Today is Sunday. Well... It'll be Monday in a few minutes."

"Holy shit! I haven’t eaten anything in two days?"

Groggy, tired people looked at the outburst, but then continued to shuffle out of the club. The bartender, who looked more worse for wear than other people in the club, gave the two their drinks. Stephen reached into his wallet and gave the poor man a fifty dollar bill. 

"Go put some fried food in your belly and drink some orange juice. You'll feel better," the sorcerer instructed. The bartender nodded numbly.

"But I have to close up... Later... I have to clean the... Bar..." Said the bartender, in a quaking voice a person had right before they had to go vomit. Stephen guessed that the poor man had probably been there the longest, hanging on the edge of consciousness. 

“Go on and get home, you probably have family worried about you. This place isn’t going to exist once the sun comes up anyway.”

Fishnets took their drink and held it close and out of anyone’s potential reach, then bit the maraschino cherry off of the plastic sword that decorated the fizzy green drink. Stephen turned his attention back to Fishnets and wondered how in the world he was going to talk his way out of this one. The last time something like this happened, Stephen got engaged. Thankfully, Fishnets was the first to start the conversation.

“So you’ve gotta be some superhero, right? Like the ones on the news all the time? You’re not gonna destroy the city like they did a couple years ago, are you?” 

Stephen watched Fishnets put a hand over their glass, disturbingly casually, as if something happened before when the protective hand wasn’t there. 

“No, I’m not going to demolish New York. That’s just silly and careless.”

“Then what kind of… Thing… Are you?”

Stephen took a sip of his own drink, choosing words carefully. 

“Well, believe it or not, I’m a doctor. Well, I used to be a doctor… No, I’m still technically a doctor. Yes, uh…” 

Stephen was not good at conversations. He scratched at the back of his head and blinked, trying not to sound like a complete nut job. 

“I really don’t give a shit if you’re a doctor or not, unless you have some kind of time travel box I can go in,” Fishnets interrupted, starting to get more angry and less confused. “Tell me what you are, and why you did what you just did.”

“Alright, relax. I’m just a normal guy. That happens to be one of the most powerful sorcerers in the universe we know, and sometimes some demons or other magical beasts show up and I have to… You know…”

“Zap them?”

“Yeah, if they’re stealing people’s life energy like that one was. You have to admit you feel better than you did.” 

Fishnets blinked, then nodded. They then stuck out their hand. 

“My name’s Jo.”

Stephen carefully took the offered hand, not used to contact with normal people. His handshake was not as firm as it used to be, and it trembled. There were lines and patches that would never go away, a constant dull ache that spiked when it was cold outside, and limited dexterity. As a result, Stephen was left feeling lower than the usual low he lived in. He saw Jo look at all of his scars, and pulled his hand back away. 

“My name is Stephen Strange.”

“That is a load of horse shit, your name is not Stephen Strange. That’s some kind of-of fanfiction original character kind of bullshit.”

“Is not! It’s on my birth certificate and everything… You must think I’m insane for telling you all of this.”

“I would, but that was definitely you floating around, all capes and laser beams, and the DJ suspiciously isn’t around anymore. I’m not going to have to disappear like he did, right?”

“Nah,” Stephen sighed. “I’m not some kind of magical mafia member, I’m just the protector of this Earth’s spiritual energy, among other things. You’re the one that has to worry about whether or not you’re insane.” 

“Comforting. You said that my, uh… That my soul was sticking out? That’s not some kind of magic man term for wanting to bone me, right?” Jo tried to sound disinterested, but failed, nerves on edge.

Stephen nodded, then had a serious demeanor about himself. “That’s the entire reason I bumped into you. The reason I COULD bump into you. Normally, I can go about my business without anyone being any the wiser, but I’ve seen this sort of stuff before. Some kind of physical or emotional trauma can make a soul pop out of place like the bones in your arm if you hit it just right.”

“S-so, what happens if a soul is totally removed…?”

“It’s like… Your body will keep on going, you see, but no one’s behind the wheel. Like a coma. It’s really sad to look at, and I’m talking from the standpoint of a doctor and a sorcerer. It’s just plain sad… But don’t worry! I can fix it!”

Jo was instantly relieved and let go of the breath they hadn’t realized they were holding for so long. “So you can fix it and nothing bad is going to happen?”

“Yeah, I am definite I can put your soul back into place and nothing bad will happen.”

Jo thought for a time, staring at their drink and moving the ice cube in their glass around with a finger. “You know, you should buy a girl some dinner before putting your mitts all over her soul.”

Stephen smiled, turning his head down sheepishly and finished his drink. “I don't know if you’ll want dinner once I’m done fixing you up. It’ll make you a bit nauseous.”

Jo shrugged. “Then we could have saltines after and call it a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was pretty dialogue heavy and I'm sorry but I like it when people actually talk. The next chapter won't be like this, and they go to the Sanctum Sanctorum. Some actually interesting stuff will happen I promise.


	3. The Sanctum Sanctorum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen takes Jo to the Sanctum Sanctorum to put their soul back into their body.

Standing up, the two walked outside to the slightly chilly street, walking down the sidewalk. Stephen had his hands in his pockets, and Jo had their arms crossed over their chest. Wearing a crop top, mini skirt, heels, and fishnets was not appropriate for the weather. Stephen thought Jo looked cold, but did not want to intrude into any personal space.

“Well, are you going to take me back to your place or mine?” Jo asked, nervously. They chewed on their glossed bottom lip.

“Preferably mine. That is, if you’re alright with that. It’s in Greenwich, though. We’ll have to take the cab. Should only take twenty minutes. Are you alright with that?”

“I… Think I’m alright with that. Yeah. With all things considering.”

Stephen walked Jo to a busier street where he was able to hail a cab, and opened the door for Jo to climb in. Stephen was a gentleman after all, and decided that being polite would be the best route to take if he was to get Jo somewhere safe from more evil magics that could snatch up their soul in a heartbeat. Jo sat as far away from Stephen as the back seat of a cab allowed, and crossed their legs. Stephen didn’t mind it so much. The last hour must have been quite a lot for a normal human to process. 

The awkwardly silent thirty two minute cab ride ended with Stephen paying and tipping the driver, then helping Jo step out of the cab to the front of a very sketchy and run down building. Stephen noticed the quiet quickening of Jo’s breathing. 

The address was 177 Bleeker Street, and the outside looked like an abandoned tattoo parlor. Stephen unlocked the door with a regular old door key and stepped inside. Jo hesitated, but entered, eyes wide and hyper aware. Stephen closed the door. He felt bad for scaring Jo like this, but it was a necessary evil.

“It is going to seem a little strange to you, but I’m going to have us step back through the door we just entered.”

“Why are we going back outside? Wait, was that a name pun? You asshole!”

“No, not outside. Inside. And, yes. I happen to be amazing at puns,” Stephen retorted, pulling out what looked like a key a pirate would use to open a treasure chest, but stuck it inside the lock of the door they just used to enter the building. He turned the key and opened the door, but it wasn't to the sidewalk outside, it was to the rather nice foyer of a high end apartment. 

There was red carpeting, a beautiful staircase with a mahogany banister, a chandelier with crystals, bright and lively potted plants, and all sorts of bookshelves filled to the brim. Stephen thought Jo’s jaw would fall off with all the gaping they were doing. “Too much to handle? It’s no time travel box, but it’s home.”

“But we… That isn't supposed to b-be there,” Jo stuttered, looking absolutely flabbergasted. Stephen grinned, excited to astound a guest. Normal people witnessing astral magics didn't come by everyday, after all. 

“I know, isn't it neat? Anyways, this is the Sanctum Sanctorum. I live here with my friend Wong. It’s sort of a magical bachelor pad.”

“You live in your own… Magical apartment with a dude named Wong, and no one else?”

Stephen realized how someone could take that the wrong way, but shrugged it off. “Yeah. We were taught together. And sort of ended up stuck together because our only other friend turned into an asshole after using black magic, but… Whatever.” He said too much, and hoped to god Jo wouldn’t pry. It would hurt too much.

Luckily, Jo seemed to be too preoccupied with being astounded at how magical everything was. Stephen had to steer them away from the bookshelves, and guided them up the stairs. 

“What is all of this? How is this even possible? It’s amazing!” Jo babbled, eyes shining with curiosity and amazement. Stephen shrugged. 

“A superhero needs a secret hideout. Please, try not to touch anything unless I say it’s alright. Some of those books have magical properties and curses. I don’t want anything happening to you. Now, if you’ll follow me to the third floor, I will be able to realign your body with your soul.”

“What’s on the third floor?”

“It’s sort of an observatory, but for the, ah… For the universe. I have to keep tabs on a lot of magical entities and fix things if they get corrupted. It’s also nice and quiet and where I get most of my meditation done,” he explained. 

On the long walk up the stairs, a slim man with an olive complexion and jet black hair tied back into a bun, walked out of one of the many doors the Sanctum Sanctorum had. 

“Stephen, you did not tell me you were bringing a guest here,” he said, with a rather soft and reserved voice. 

“I know, I didn’t see this happening.”

“Is your Sight failing--”

“Jo, this is Wong, Wong, introduce yourself to Jo. I’m going to be fixing up Jo’s misaligned soul this evening and that’s that, okay?”

Wong looked at Stephen, and Stephen back at him. They were analyzing each other, making the air around them tense and thick. 

“There’s nothing wrong with my Sight. This was just an anomaly and it’s not going to be a big deal, so don’t turn it into one,” Stephen said, voice low and angry.

“Yes, sir,” Wong replied, eyes narrowing. “I’ll put on the kettle.”

Stephen turned back to Jo and realized that Jo was probably watching that whole thing. He laughed nervously and continued up the stairs. “You like tea, right? Aaah… Let’s just get this over with.”

Jo followed Stephen up the stairs to the top floor of the Sanctum Sanctorum. There was a skylight that revealed the beautiful stars and constellations that weren't normally visible in New York. There was a large round table in the center of the room with a star chart on it, several notebooks completely full of notes and runes, candles half melted and still burning, and handfuls of colorful crystals. All of it was strewn about, but Stephen found the mess to be quite organized, and picked up several rocks and a few runes torn from a red notebook. 

“I think these will do the trick,” Stephen mused, placing crystals in Jo’s hands with a mumbled “hold these”. 

“What are they for?”

“Crystal stones with very powerful spiritual energies that I can use to align you… Keep still and balance this amethyst on top of your head.”

The amethyst was not the only stone to be adorned upon Jo. Stephen placed a turquoise necklace on Jo to rest just above their collarbone, another necklace with a heavy chunk of jade resting on the center of Jo’s chest, and finally pushed a coin of black obsidian against Jo’s lower back. “Hold that right there… Alright, Jo, I think those are enough to help this along.” Stephen took a step back and took a deep breath, then lifted his arms and bent his fingers just so. Stephen started to chant, but his voice was louder than it usually was, each word making the air tremble.

“Be soft, the chains of Krakkan,  
Sapphire bands of Storaan be swift,  
Reunite the soul with its proper human,  
Make them whole like they’ve never been split!”

The candles on the round table flickered and extinguished. Out of thin air, brilliant blue bands, and chains that were made of a silvery mist wrapped around Jo, squeezing, pulling. Jo lost their breath as they wrapped tighter and tighter.

“Oh God,” they wheezed, “I’m gonna die…!”

“You are not going to die, I just… Need a little bit more…”

Jo’s chest heaved as they struggled for breath, but Stephen was determined to finish the job the best way he knew how. It was only a matter of how hard he pushed and squeezed Jo’s parts back together. The stones on Jo’s body started to glow and shimmer brightly, then Stephen heard something akin to two black holes colliding, and everything stopped. The bands and chains vanished as mystically as they appeared, and Jo collapsed to the floor, coughing and gasping. 

“Wow… Jo? Are you alright? I’m sorry, but it was the only way I could--”

“Shut your damn mouth…!” Jo coughed. Their eyes were watering, making black sparkly eyeliner run down their copper cheeks. They ripped the necklaces off and threw the stones across the room. Stephen flinched and went over to help them stand up, but Jo smacked his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me with your-your disgusting hands… I want to go home. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tea time with Wong in the next chapter, and maybe feels? Tune in wherever, whenever.


	4. The One Where Jo Throws Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo feels the side effects of a magic spell. Stephen and Wong talk.

Stephen never saw himself as a bad guy. He helped people that were deserving of help whenever he could, there were plenty of apocalypse scenarios that ended because of him, and the vampire horde that was taking over New York five years ago was as good as gone. But, the way Jo looked at him, Stephen realized that he was feared. His hand was smacked away, and it stung. He watched Jo wobble back up on their high heeled feet, and stepped away. “Careful,” he said quietly. “You’re going to feel sick…”

“You… You were going to crush me! You said nothing bad would happen, you fucking creep!”

“Nothing bad happened,” Stephen barked, defending himself. “You’re whole again, you should be happy!”

“Happy?!”

Jo’s shouting was interrupted by Wong, who brought a tray of refreshments, including the tea he mentioned earlier. He looked at Stephen, who was standing with his arms crossed and his head down, and then at Jo, who looked like a hot mess with the running eyeliner and lost breath.

“I think I arrived just in time,” Wong said, putting the tray on the round table, pushing gemstones aside. He poured three cups of tea. “I think everyone needs to calm themselves. I made chamomile.” 

Stephen grabbed his teacup and started to walk away, positively fuming, but Wong grabbed Stephen’s arm. 

“What.”

“Stephen, let’s sit down and calm ourselves. You know it only gets worse when you’re mad…”

Stephen touched his own shoulder and nodded, letting out a shaky sigh. “You’re right. I should calm down.” Stephen flicked the wrist that was not occupied with a teacup, and three chairs with rather luxurious cushions were transported from their usual home in Stephen’s foyer to a spot beside the round table. He sank into one of them and ran his fingers through his hair. He saw Jo blink and gape at the chairs that were suddenly there.

“You can sit, Jo. These chairs won’t eat you,” Stephen said, sounding exhausted. “How do you feel?”

Jo took a seat, moving slowly. Their face looked flushed and had a sheen of sweat that translucent powder was not preventing. “Like it’s my stomach that’s being squeezed,” They said, voice wavering and quiet now. They wiped the eyeliner from their cheeks and took a steaming cup of tea.

Wong was the last to sit, and he looked expectantly at Stephen and Jo. It was as if Wong was the parent trying to control his two fighting children.

“Stephen,” Wong began, taking his own cup of tea, “you didn’t warn our guest of what you were doing.”

“I didn’t… But it wasn’t exactly my intent to have to push so hard. The pieces didn’t want to come back together. I’m sorry.”

Jo looked at Stephen and bit their lip again. Stephen felt Jo’s eyes on him. Wong turned to Jo. 

“You should feel better in the morning, but I suggest you spend the night here,” Wong said, although it sounded more like an order and less like a suggestion. “Please drink your tea. It will settle your stomach.”

Jo nodded and nursed the tea, but as the quiet minutes ticked by, Jo covered their mouth and gagged. Stephen stood and took Jo’s arm. Jo resisted, but gagged more and followed Stephen out of the observatory and into the hallway, and down the stairs to the second floor. 

“You really don’t want to throw up on anything magical on accident. You could make a vomit demon and then I would have to fight it and that’s really gross,” Stephen explained, opening a door that was not chained shut. He positioned Jo in front of the toilet and sort of backed off.

“Why…?

“Why what?”

“Why are you still in here to watch me throw up?”

“Because I just like to make sure nothing weird is going to come out.”

Jo hurled and gripped the sides of the toilet bowl, then sank down to their knees and kicked off their high heels. “Wh-what do you mean by that?!”

“I’ve seen all sorts of things that you cannot even begin to imagine. Believe me when I say I’ve seen people vomit up actual monsters.”

Jo spent the next hour heaving in Stephen’s bathroom, but half an hour into the nausea, Stephen left them alone to hug the toilet when he was satisfied that their stomach contents contained no magic. He occupied himself with preparing a guest room. It wasn’t often that Stephen had guests, so he made sure that the more dangerous magical artifacts he had were put somewhere safe, like in his own room across the hall. He made the bed and fluffed the pillows, then made his way to the ground floor where the kitchen was. Wong was there, stirring a spicy smelling mixture in a cast iron cauldron. 

“What’s that?” 

“Your dinner. I noticed you haven’t eaten today.”

“I don’t like eating.”

“Do you want your body to completely turn into eyes and teeth?”

“... I suppose not. I need mandrake root and a bowl of milk.”

“Get it yourself, you’re not completely crippled, Stephen.”

Stephen opened a cabinet and grabbed a bowl, then went to the fridge. He took a deep breath and mentally prepared for what was inside. Carefully, he grabbed the handle of the refrigerator door and pulled.

“D O C T O R S T R A N G E E E E E! ! !”

“Hello, fridge…”

“YOU HAVE IMPRISONED ME BUT I HAVE FOUND A WAY TO MAKE YOUR LIFE HELL, STRANGE!”

“Well, let’s see it, then,” Said Stephen, already exhausted with the conversation with the demon he imprisoned long ago to a fate of keeping groceries cold. He looked around the inside of the fridge and grabbed the milk. There was a click, and Stephen saw that the temperature went down one degree.

“MUAHAHAHA! NOW YOUR ELECTRICITY BILLS WILL SKYROCKET OUT OF CONTROL, AND YOUR PRECIOUS FOOD WILL BE FREEZER BURNED!”

“Yeah, okay, calm down, you really got me this time, buddy.” 

Stephen bent down to open the crisper door and pulled out a thick mandrake root and tucked it under his arm. He closed the fridge door, hearing a loud “N O O O O O O O O O O O” as he did it. Stephen then got a bowl and put the mandrake root in, followed by pouring milk all over it. Wong looked over to see what he was doing.

“For bad dreams?”

“I wouldn’t want anything around this house giving our nice guest bad dreams, huh, Wong?”

Stephen sighed and rubbed his shoulder.

“I grew another one. It’s bothering me, I need you to pull it out.”

He peeled off his shirt, and looked at the troublesome shoulder where a big yellow eye blinked open and looked around. Wong tutted and got a paring knife and a bottle of whiskey Stephen had been doing so well trying not to touch. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, Stephen's growing eyeballs. Tune in next time for Dream Walking.


	5. Dreamwalking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen takes a peek into Jo's dreams.

There was a sheen of sweat over Stephen’s shaking body as Wong made careful cuts around the yellow darting eye. 

“Stephen, if it hurts, you need to take another drink.”

“Don’t want to… Fuck, how much longer?”

“That depends. Do you want it to be a good job or not?”

“Oh, go to hell, Wong!” Stephen didn’t mean that. He clutched onto the countertop and trembled, waiting for it to end. Wong stopped, wiped the blood off his hands, and poured a shot for Stephen to take.

“You are shaking too much for me to work, Stephen. And you probably want this to be done before our guest leaves the bathroom.”

Stephen took the shot glass in his hand and stared at it. “You know I’m trying not to… To drink too much anymore.”

“I know. However, I do not think a hospital is capable enough to extract a magical eye from a sorcerer without consequence.”

“I know,” Stephen groaned. He took the shot and winced as he swallowed. It burned in the most delightful way down his throat, alcohol being one of the only few normal things that didn't turn to dust in his mouth. Wong patted Stephen’s back, then took up the knife again, carefully cutting and pulling. Twenty-seven minutes later, Wong was putting the eyeball into a mason jar and disposing of it properly. He wrote a rune on a sticky note, then put it on the lid of the mason jar. The eye dissolved into ash.

“Better, Stephen?”

“Much better… I’d better check up on the kid…”

“Do not worry yourself.” 

Wong pulled a medical kit out from under the kitchen sink, then started to stitch the open gash back together, then placed an ointment over it. 

“Try not to cover it up, it needs to breathe,” Wong instructed, sitting Stephen down on the floor. “I will gather the guest and put them in bed to rest. You need to relax as well.”

“You need to relax, MOM,” Stephen grumbled and poked around his stitches, watching Wong leave the kitchen. He got up and followed his friend, watching him pull the half-asleep Jo up into a standing position and into the guest room Stephen had cleaned earlier. 

Jo looked around and climbed under the duvet on the bed. “My shoes are in the bathroom,” they said, numbly. Stephen silently retreated and got his bowl of milk and mandrake root, then got the pair of black high heels from the bathroom. Upon returning, he saw Wong tucking in the mortal as if they were but a child. 

“He is asleep.”

“They.”

“Pardon?”

“They are asleep, Wong…”

“Ah. I see. I apologize.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just gonna put this bowl under the bed and make sure nothing wants to crawl into Jo’s dreams or anything. We’ve already made a stellar impression, I wouldn’t want some stray spirit planting itself in their head on top of the emotional trauma tonight has caused.”

“I am certain that they will wake up in the morning with questions in abundance.”

“It’ll be fine, Wong. I’ve got it under control.”

“Under control like you had Clea or Wanda or Victor…?”

“This isn’t like that! Those were… Well, they’re gone now. You see where that’s gotten me, I’m still here. I’m not looking for someone to be in a relationship anymore, it only brings trouble.”

“I… Understand. Well, dinner is done simmering, do you want to eat before you retire for the night--”

“Put it in the fridge, I’ll eat in the morning.”

Wong nodded briskly, and left to the kitchen, containing what was supposed to be dinner in a Tupperware and placing it inside the demon fridge. The demon spouted some colorful language, but Wong tutted at it, and slammed the door shut. 

Stephen slid the bowl of milk and mandrake under Jo’s bed, where light snoring was rumbling from underneath the duvet. The simple concoction would work wonders in warding away nightmares, but Stephen wasn’t quite convinced. The past few hours contained high levels of magic that did not often sit well with normal humans. Sure, Jo had suffered nausea, but that was a mild side effect. Stephen took it upon himself to take a peek into Jo’s mind for a moment or two, just to see if there were any underlying problems. He placed a gentle hand on the head of dark corkscrew coils, and carefully projected himself inside the current dream.

If Stephen could describe the most beautiful, pure thing he had ever seen, it would be the dream he was walking into. There was soft grass on the ground, a delightfully pink sunset sky, and clouds everywhere but what was most breathtaking was how Jo dreamed of themself. Their skin glowed like a brand new penny, and when they turned to look at Stephen, their hair bounced. They were wearing a pair of light blue pajamas, the button up shirt kind with the drawstring bottoms. Stephen found himself forgetting how to breathe. 

“Oh,” Jo said, “I can’t get away from you, can I? I thought you squished me already, please don’t squish me again.”

Stephen blinked. “Oh, no, I’m not going to do that. Beautiful dream you’ve got going on.”

“Thank you. I think this is from when my mom and I lived in Ohio… I can’t remember. I was little.”

Stephen decided it was safe to join Jo in the soft dream grass. The dream was stable and calm. The milk and mandrake must be working. “You must miss it.”

“There’s nothing to miss anymore. Maybe the grass and how clear the sky is, but nothing other than what’s here. What about you? Is there anything you miss? You know all sorts of shit about me, and I know nothing about you other than you’ve got magic hands and a magic apartment and a not magic Asian dude living with you...”

“The list of things I miss is pretty long. But if I have to say anything, I’d say I miss pizza. And I miss my hands being steady.”

“Huh? Why’s that, stomach can’t take it?”

“No, I can’t eat normal food anymore. It sort of turns to dust in my mouth… My list of things I can eat is dwindling to nearly nothing. I can handle entrails, viscera, organ meats, booze, and hot pockets.” Stephen patted his stomach. “At least I don’t have to worry about going up a pant size.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“I live in New York and I can never have pizza ever again. It blows.”

Jo laughed. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I thought you would be more upset about your hands and not the pizza.”

Stephen smiled. Genuinely smiled. It felt good to talk about himself to someone. “You learn to get used to shaky hands. And to make up for the lack of pizza, Wong learned how to make a wicked organ and viscera chop suey.”

“That sounds fucking gross.”

“It’s super fucking gross, and it makes me want to die, but I eat it to make him happy. He’s really gung-ho about my well being when I’m too busy to care.”

The two lied in the grass like that until the edges of the beautiful sunset faded to black. They looked over at Stephen in a sort of panic, the pink sky turning into a black void. “What’s happening?”

“Your dream is ending. You’ll be up soon… If I weren’t here, you wouldn’t have noticed, it’s perfectly normal. And I’ll be there when you wake up and you can go home.”

“Maybe I don’t want to go home after all I’ve seen,” Jo said, rolling onto their side to look at Stephen with a mischievous smile.

Stephen couldn’t help but smile back. He was hooked. 

“It’s a dangerous life with someone like me around. I thought you called me disgusting for magically squeezing you too tight.”

“It’s a dangerous life for someone like me anyways. I think I can learn to tolerate you, Strange. But, no more squeezing, okay?”

“Please, call me Stephen. And no more squeezing, I promise.” 

Stephen blinked and withdrew himself from Jo’s mind. Grinning like an idiot, he patted Jo’s head and waited for them to wake up. He liked them. They were just a normal human. No demonic relatives, no magic powers, no metal exterior or god complex. A normal person was just the thing Stephen needed in his strange, strange world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter has smut in it. Can't wait.


End file.
